Often on Monday and Thursday, for some reason, the village council was closed during the day, we waited until dark, the chairman or secretary appeared, registered us, and we walked to Yershi at night through the muddy mud in the rain. The worst thing was to go in a snowstorm in winter. It was becoming scary, terrible, danger was felt everywhere, but we walked and walked.

Two or three times the guys pestered us, but God's mercy saved us.

Several times the policeman Mikhalev came to Ruffi on horseback, usually stamped in the hallway of the house for a long time, wiping his feet, silently entered, sat down on a bench, took out a notebook, a chemical pencil, looked at us as if at inanimate objects, let us sign a book, got up and always said the same phrase: Business, business, in place, so girls! And, looking at us and the hut with an unkind look, he drove away. Mikhalev's face was square, shaggy eyebrows protruded above his eyes, deep wrinkles, like a trace of an axe blow, cut through his forehead, cheeks, and chin in the most unexpected directions. Mikhalev gave the impression of a pagan idol, carved from a piece of wood, his face seemed unkind, evil.

At his arrival, grandmother Lyaxandra began to fuss, worried and left the house. We did not like Mikhalev, we were afraid of his visits, his look, the notebook he carried, and even the horse on which he came.

The fierce northern winter twisted us, and we saved ourselves only by warming ourselves by the stove. Warmth supported us, but hunger overwhelmed us. Mushrooms, mushrooms and mushrooms in two types are soup and porridge from them. If we managed to get five or six potatoes, we crumbled them into a mushroom mash, and it seemed to us that we lived like royalty.

Yulia began to hurt, first her stomach, then her legs and arms weakened, and she finally fell asleep. The first time in early December I did not go to registration. Sonya and I went and said that Yulia was sick, but the chairman did not believe it, began to shout and swear, sophisticated, cynical, threatening. Going home to Ruffi, we cried all the way. The next day Mikhalev came to check if Yulia had run away, but saw that she was sick and allowed her not to appear.

Two weeks later, they came from the district with a search, rummaged through all our belongings, took away the Gospel, the Psalter, prayer books, and from that time on we could pray only from memory.

For some reason, Sonya went alone to Korsun four or five times, and once she even spent the night there. She looked better than Yulia and me, but lately she had been thinking for a long time, silently walking around the house, sitting down and looking out of the window.

I tried to speak, to ask her, but she stubbornly remained silent, and one Wednesday morning she went to Korsun, stayed there for the night, and on Thursday a note was brought from her:

I don't want to die of hunger, I have to live. Judge me, but I will not return. You can't live by prayer alone. Farewell. Dormouse.

Yulia and I burst into tears, and grandmother Lyaksandra, coming in the evening, reported to us: Sonya went to Korsun from hunger to Vasya Strokov, she is the chairman of the collective farm. His wife died in the spring, saw Sonya, took a liking to him, and well, they got confused. Whether he bothered her or took her is a matter for them how the queen will live now.

Yulia got worse from everything that happened. I went to Korsun to look for Sonya, asked and did not find her. How could it happen, I thought, that we were together with Fr. Arseny, he led everyone, and Sonya served as an example for many. Why did this happen, why? I asked myself a question and could not answer. Julia and I began to pray even more and more fervently, begging the Lord to give us strength and help.

Grandmother Lyaksandra, fleeing from hunger, decided to go to her sister in Shenkursk. I'm not your helper, girls, but an extra mouth. There were only two of us left. We lived for another month, eating mushrooms. On Monday, I went to check-in. Yulia was completely weak, and I was afraid to leave her alone.

With difficulty I made it to Korsun. Fine prickly snow was falling, the wind knocked me off my feet. The door of the village council was locked, I stamped and walked along the street in confusion. The thought flashed through my mind: I will beg for alms. As soon as I walked a few steps, I looked at the threshold of one house, a girl of about ten ran out and shouted: Aunt! Aunt! Come here. I entered the house, the hostess sat me down at the table and began to feed me.